Diving In A Pool Of Pain
by blue peanut m and m
Summary: Months of bullying finally come to a head for Sam, hurt and alone will he be able to get help? Or will he succumb to a pool of pain. Teen-Chester. Written as a surprise birthday gift for Darksupernatural.
1. Chapter 1

**Diving In A Pool Of Pain.**

**Summary. . . . . . . Months of bullying finally come to a head for Sam, hurt and alone will he be able to get help, or will he succumb in a pool of pain? **

**A.N. . . . . . Written as a birthday gift for Darksupernatural, thanks for being a friend, you can always be counted on to help and advise and I wanted to give something back to you. I hope you enjoy your day and this little prezzie.**

Sam sighed as he looked up at the red brick building before him, another new hunt had sent the Winchester's to yet another new town, which in turn meant yet another new school, and for Sam yet another go at being the new kid once again. He had lost track of the amount of times in his short sixteen year life that he had worn that title and the bullying that came along with it, usually after a few days of ignoring the jibes and insults the other students would grow tired and move onto something, or someone else. But this time it seemed never ending.

There wasn't a day that would go by since he had started here in late February, that Sam didn't have something to deal with. If it wasn't his locker being broken into, his books ripped and scattered about the hallways, it was snide little comments made by voices just loud enough to hear. If it wasn't an accidental push, or trip, here or there, it was stifled giggling every time he walked into a room or walked by a group in the hallways.

Sam had, in the past, often wondered why he always seemed to be targeted and yet his older brother, Dean, could walk into any new school and immediately fit in, claiming the role of king within minutes. This term though, Sam knew the reasons why. This term Sam knew that he was targeted because of what had been happening since last summer.

Sam had grown.

Sam had grown a hell of a lot!

At just under six feet, Sam was almost as tall as Dean, and he towered over every other kid in his grade. Sam knew that this was the reason for all the taunts and abuse, as quiet and gentle as he was, the other kids were all threatened by his height. That was the reason, he believed, why most of them tried to save face by making his life a living hell. Sam knew that he could fight back, be more like Dean. He knew that if he wanted to he could put an end to it all with just one punch, but his gentle nature, his good conscience always prevented him from doing so.

His goodness wasn't the only reason why he didn't fight back, never retaliated. No, in his eyes, he saw what the others saw. He was a freak of nature; a six foot beanpole that was so skinny if it wasn't for his belt, there would be no way his trousers would stay up. That was another reason, Sam thought, that the bullying was so bad. His clothes. He knew that they were un-cool and ill fitting, which in this affluent part of town the school was located in, stood out a mile. But Dean had bought them for him, and that meant to Sam's eyes they were the best clothes ever.

Sam tried not to think too much about Dean, he hated the fact that since they had moved here the close bond they had between them had splintered so much he didn't think it was possible to reverse the damage. He hated that they never spent any time together anymore, that he couldn't go to Dean with his problems, that Dean was no longer there to save the day when the bullying became too much, that Dean no longer felt like his brother, his best friend, his hero.

He started walking up the stone steps towards the school's main entrance, hoping and wishing to himself that he could just make it through today and get to the weekend and a reprieve. He was happy at least that it was just a short day, one of those parent teacher days that cropped up every now and then. All he had to do was endure advanced math and then swim class and he would be home free, with nothing but a few ghosts and spirits to worry about for the next few days.

He pulled up his collar more tightly around his neck as the biting wind picked up, sending it's freezing tendrils down his spine. Although the first of April, their current location, close to the Rockies, meant that the temperature here was low enough to still need a decent cold weather coat, the occasional snow fall still known to catch people out.

Sam smiled a grim smile when he made it to the doors without so much as a sly comment reaching his ears. He dared to hope that today might be the day his luck would change, that today might be the day that he turned the corner, that today might be the day it all stopped. His good fortune stayed with him throughout his math class, and for the first time since he had been there Sam walked to his locker with a small, happy smile gracing his face.

Putting in the right combination, he opened the door and went to place his books inside. A hand grabbing his arm had him jumping in fright, his back automatically stiffening waiting for the blows to follow. He was caught of guard when the blows didn't appear, and a soft voice spoke instead.

"You should do that more often."

Sam looked down on the stunning blonde haired girl that stood before him. He had seen her around a few times, usually hanging with the person who had been the bain of Sam's existence these past months, Drew Peters. She had always distanced herself from him though whenever he and his goons had started on Sam, and she had smiled at him a couple of times whenever he had glanced her way as they passed each other in the halls, or in class.

He looked back at her now as she stood there almost waiting for him to answer her back. When Sam finally plucked up the courage to speak, his voice betrayed him coming out all sharp and high pitched, a blush formed on his cheeks and he turned away wishing for the ground to open up beneath him. Her arm though gripped tighter, preventing him from doing so. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"What do you want more ammo to use against me, and laugh about?" He didn't mean it to come across nastily, but he knew that was what his tone implied.

"I'm sorry, I probably deserved that. I know that you've been treated badly since you have been here. I Just wanted to try and make things right. My names Kris, I'll see you around." She let go of Sam's arm and started to walk away, Sam stopping her before she got too far.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I guess I have some trust issues. You never did anything to hurt me, I'm sorry for the way I reacted. What did you mean before when you said I should do that more often?" Sam asked, throwing her a warm smile that accentuated his dimples all the more.

"That!" Kris replied, her hand reaching up to touch his face. Laughing lightly as Sam's color rose once again at her touch.

Unbeknown to the both of them the whole display was being watched from a few feet away, a hatred growing stronger within Drew as he saw Sam and Kris talk awhile longer.

Sam daydreamed his way towards the building that housed the school's pool, the feel of Kris' touch on his face lingered, making him almost eager to get to the class he hated the most. It wasn't that Sam couldn't swim, his Dad had made Dean teach him almost as soon as he could walk, it was the thought of showing off his scrawny legs and skinny body in a pair of Speedos, the school swimwear of choice; every time he even thought about it a sense of dread would wash over him.

He walked into the locker room thankful that it appeared Drew and his swim team buddies had already left for the pool area, no doubt to suck up to the coach, leaving Sam to get changed in peace. He hunkered down, stooping his shoulders, trying to make himself as small as possible as he hurriedly made his way to the water, trying to become invisible hoping to just get through the next hour.

His foot slipped on a wet tile though sending him crashing to the floor, his knee smacking viciously into the ribbed tiles, a grunt of pain escaping his lips before he could stop it, attracting all the attention he had been hoping to avoid. All heads turned his way, Drew and his cohorts immediately starting to laugh as they watched Sam's over sized feet slide from under him again as he hurriedly tried to stand. Sam's face burned with shame as the coach spoke up.

"Peter's, McIver, help Winchester get to his feet before he starts crying out for his mommy because he got a booboo."

Tears of shame mixed with tears of anger at the coach's mention of his mom. When Drew's arm grasped his painfully in an attempt to pull him up, months of Sam's regressed anger erupted and he lashed out. The coach had turned back to speak to other students, missing completely Sam's fist slamming into Drew's face, allowing Sam time to regain his balance. As Drew retaliated and an all out brawl started between the two boys though, the older man was soon barreling between them, forcing them apart.

"What the hell is going on here?" He shouted out, at getting no response and looking around at all the class gathered there, the coach knew that he couldn't give his usual favors to his star pupil. "20 lengths of the pool for the pair of you." As Sam and Drew walked off to start their punishment he added. "At the end of the lesson boy's, not on my time."

Drew groaned in protest that meant his planned attempt at winning Kris back would be ruined. As the coach turned away again and ordered the boy's into the pool, Drew spun on Sam whispering viciously. "You'll pay for this Winchester." Shoving harshly, he pushed Sam into the pool. As Sam spluttered and coughed after breaking the surface, he vowed to himself to try and avoid Drew for the rest of the lesson. The coach thankfully helped with that problem, separating the swim team to the other end of the pool leaving the rest of the class under the instruction of his assistant.

Soon enough the lesson was over and Sam and Drew were left to get on with their punishment, the coach disappearing to his office and the bottle of whiskey every one knew he kept there. Both boys' started off quickly, both wanting to be the first one to finish, Sam so intent on beating Drew he missed the other boys friends sneaking around the pool to the high board.

By the time he had finished Sam's body was aching and all he could think about was getting dried, dressed and out of there. He tried to ignore the snickers coming from Drew and his friends; focusing his mind instead on Kris, and how her touch had made him feel. A warm blush and a sudden stirring making him rush all the more for the sanctuary of his clothes.

Opening his locker Sam reached for the threadbare towel he had dumped in his gym bag earlier and wrapped it hastily around his waist. He pulled his t-shirt of the shelf and quickly threw it over his head, not caring that his body was still wet. Reaching back into his locker Sam searched one handed for his boxers which he had placed on top of his jeans on his gym bag, his other hand stripping off the wet Speedos and dropping them onto the floor. His hunter instincts kicked in when he couldn't find what he was looking for, his head whipping around trying to get ready for the attack he knew was imminent.

He wasn't quite quick enough though as Rob Edwards, one of Drew's friends ran past and snatched the towel from around Sam's waist. As the sound of the other boy's laughter reached his ears, Sam could do nothing but stand there mortified, trying desperately to pull his too short t-shirt over his exposed area.

"See guys, I told you he was gay. Look how pleased he is to see us."

Sam cringed as seven sets of eyes all focused their attention on his body, the blush rising as shame washed over him. Drew saw Sam's embarrassment for something else though. He saw it as Sam's guilt, moving forward he spoke up again. "See he is gay. Look how guilty he looks at being found out." Drew pointed at Sam's now beetroot face. "Look he's not even denying it. But we don't swing that way, do we guys?" A murmuring of agreement came from the others before Drew turned back to Sam, malicious intent blazing from his eyes, he spat out. "And we don't like guys that do!"

Sam was too busy trying to hide himself behind his cupped hands, to busy keeping an eye on Drew that he missed Rob sneaking off again. As Drew's fist aimed for his head, Sam easily dodged it and moved back, straight into Rob's waiting arms. Sam didn't have time to realize his mistake, didn't have time to berate himself over forgetting the first rule of hunting, always keep an eye on all your targets. He was too busy warding off the nausea that rose after Josh had pushed him forward slightly before kicking him in the back of the knee, Sam's leg buckling instantly sending him crashing heavily down to the floor, a gasp of pain escaping him as his ankle twisted viciously and the knee he had hurt earlier once again slammed into the tiles.

Sam didn't have time to recover though before all seven of the guys were surrounding him, boots and fists flying at him from all angles. He tried to fight back, even managing to grab hold of one boy's ankle and pull him off balance sending him crashing into a locker door, his nose breaking on impact. There was just too many of them though, and each hit Sam took weakened him all the more. In the end he did the only thing he could do, he retreated and hoped that he could ride it out.

Curling up into a ball, he tried desperately to protect his vital parts. The hits kept coming though, until a boot clad foot broke Sam's defenses and smashed into Sam's own nose, the force of the kick lifting Sam's head off the floor, his brain having switched to unconsciousness unable to tell him to brace for what was about to come, and with a sickening crack Sam's head connected with the unforgiving tiled floor; blood flowing and mixing with a puddle of chlorinated water almost instantly.

The other boy's stood shocked for a minute before they all started laughing, Drew as always the first one to speak up. "Stick the rest of his belongings in his bag; put it on the high board with his jeans and boxers, then let's get out of here. We'll tell coach that we finished and every where is locked up, it won't be the first time we've had to do it so he won't come looking. It's one thirty, he's probably downed half a bottle by now anyway."

The guys were still laughing as they went about taking Sam's gym bag and stuffing it with his shoes, socks, jumper, and coat before leaving to place it with his jeans and boxers they had left precariously balanced on the high board earlier. After they had returned, they grabbed their own bags and prepared to leave, Drew though couldn't help himself, he remembered the happy look on Kris' face as she had touched and talked with Sam. In two years she had never looked that happy with him.

Walking back over to Sam, who still lay sprawled out unconscious, he kicked the defenseless boy savagely between the legs. Sam's body reacted to the pain, but he remained dead to the world. "That's what you get for messing with my girl." Drew ground out, kicking at Sam's unprotected side this time, the resounding snap of the fragile ribs breaking echoing around the room. Spitting in Sam's face, Drew walked off, leaving a battered Sam to his own fate.

Sam came slowly back to consciousness, freezing, in a world of pain, and having no idea of how long he had been out, or even where he was at first. As nausea rose in his throat, he rolled awkwardly to his side and tried to lever himself up, his efforts were futile though. His strength zapped from the beating he had sustained, all he could do was turn his head weakly to the side and hope that once he had finished he would have enough in reserve to stop him from falling in his own mess.

As his body finally expelled all its stomach contents, Sam willed himself to move away, at first he could only manage a few inches, but eventually he managed to make it so that his back rested against the lockers. He tried to ascertain the extent of his injuries, knowing instantly that his ribs and nose were broken, his knee and ankle were tender to the touch but seemed in tact, and from the stickiness in his hair he had a head wound somewhere.

Overriding all of that pain though was the sharp, steady throb that emanated from between his legs. He reached down with his hand trying to ease the pain that radiated from there, panic stricken when his hand touched something sticky there. When he pulled his hand away the panic changed to horror as it came away covered in blood. Shivers wracked his body as the cold and shock set in once again, reminding him that he really needed to get out of there, but he didn't think he could move on his own.

Reaching into his locker he tried to locate his bag and the phone that lay in the front pocket. The bag though was no longer there; neither were his shoes, socks, jumper, coat, or the precious mobile phone. Sam's whole body slumped, every inch of the pain intensifying as he realized the only way to get help was now gone. He found himself sobbing in pain and frustration and tried desperately to get his emotions under control, as each sob rocked his body exacerbating his injuries, making them ache all the more. He knew that he would have to get moving, that he would have to make his own way out of there, and that he would have to find his own help, to do that though he would need clothes, too many people had seen him naked already today.

Gripping the locker door, Sam tried to pull himself to his feet, nearly passing out again as fiery spasms of pain radiated from his groin. Leaning heavily on his good leg and ankle, his grip on the door increased making his knuckles turn stark white, Sam breathed slowly, deeply trying to ease his sloshing, rolling stomach and ward off the darkness that had begun to encroach the edges of his vision. When his stomach seemed to have settled Sam tentatively eased his way forward, his hands clutching the locker tops, his eyes darting everywhere looking for anything to cover his lower half with so that he could make it to the coaches' office, or the main part of the school and the phones he knew were there.

His search was in vain though, his own clothes were nowhere to be found, everyone else's taken home to get washed. Sam's strength waned, and with shame engulfing him he realized he would have to go out there naked on his bottom half and pray that he didn't run into anyone; although he was beginning to not care anymore if he did, the pain was getting too much for him to handle, and help from anyone at this point would, he thought, be a blessing. Sam turned towards the door that led to the coaches' office and eventually the outside, and began the slow arduous task of trying to reach it.

He cried out in relief when after what felt like a lifetime his hand finally reached the door knob, his hands sweaty from the effort, Sam rubbed them on his t-shirt before turning the knob and pushing on the door. It didn't move. He tried again, pushing harder using what little reserves he had left, but it was no use the door was securely locked. Sam tried banging on the doors, trying to get anybody's attention, but no one answered. On trembling limbs Sam sank to the floor, his sore and swollen knee forcing one leg to stretch out in front of him, defeat evident in his eyes as he broke down and sobbed, his cries mingling with whispered pleas for Dean, or his Dad.

The more he pleaded for them, the more a little spark began to light up inside him once more. Winchester's never gave up. Winchester's never admitted defeat. Winchester's always kept fighting; they sucked up their pain and refused to be defeated. Bringing shaky hands to his eyes Sam wiped away the tears, after doing so he pushed the heels of his hands into his temple trying to push back the throbbing ache long enough to start thinking of a way out of this, to start thinking of a way to save himself. He started a little mantra to himself "Think Sam, think. Think of a way outta here." He was starting to give in again, starting to think all was lost, when he remembered the fire door at the far end of the pool, if he could get there, he could get help.

Sam started to push himself back up only to realize just how hard it was going to be to reach those doors. Sitting on the floor he hadn't noticed his muscles start to cramp and stiffen up, it was only as he started to move again and they started to protest that he realized just how much that little emotional break had cost him. As he moved his legs the pain in his groin magnified, so much so that the slightest movement of his hips or legs left him in agony and breathless. He tried to ride out the pain, slowing his breathing down he attempted to rise again making it to his feet this time where he stood swaying for the longest time trying to regain his equilibrium. Finally feeling strong enough he started the long trek back, past his still open locker and back to the poolside.

Once his feet reached the cold ribbed tiles, Sam stopped to regain his breath, leaning back against the wall whilst looking at the distance he still had to go, fighting a raging battle within himself, one side telling him to rest, that the distance was just too far, the other side, sounding too much like his father for Sam's liking, urging him to go on, to be strong. The battle within his muddled mind threatening to take what little energy he had left, Sam forced himself to concentrate, to make a decision, to start moving again. A ringing suddenly sounded out, just about the same time as something caught the corner of his eye forcing him to look back towards the opposite end of the pool to his destination, back towards the high board. There dangling over the edge, wafting gently in the air conditioned breeze, were his jeans held securely in place by his gym bag which was balanced on the edge.

Sam choked back a sob, he really didn't know whether to laugh or cry, his phone was so close, his help was so close. All he had to do was climb to the top, retrieve his bag, and call Dean to come and get him. It all seemed so simple. As he looked up once again at the height though, Sam knew it wouldn't be that easy. Ever since a run in with a poltergeist two months ago, Sam knew that climbing that ladder would be easier said than done, the dissatisfied spirit had taken pleasure out of dangling Sam from a five story window taunting Dean before dropping him. Luckily he had only fallen two stories before landing heavily on a fire escape, with only sprains, cuts and bruises to show on the outside, on the inside though things weren't so easy to get over, Sam gaining a new fear of heights.

He tried to weigh up his options, go outside naked from the waist down? Or face up to his fears? In the end it wasn't even a close call, he'd been shamed enough today. Turning back around he made his way to the high board, his hands gripping whatever hold they could, a trail of crimson following in his wake. As Sam's hands touched the smooth surface of the ladder he stopped once again, pain now dogging every movement he made no matter how hard he tried to block it out, his breathing coming quick and shallow as he fought to prevent his ribs from moving around even further. He looked up daunted by the task that still stood before him.

Placing his injured ankle on the first rung he grabbed hold of either side of the ladder and proceeded to test his weight on the limb, thankful for the first time in his life for all the strength training his Dad had forced him to do when the limb buckled under his weight forcing Sam to use his upper body to pull him up as his good leg tried to find the rung. He stood balanced on his good leg trying to ride out the pain that was threatening to overwhelm him once again, that was trying to drag him away from his goal. He looked back the way he came wondering if it would be better to go back, to face the shame, but either way he looked at it, Sam knew he was in for a hard time.

The still ringing phone though was closer, so Sam carried on up the ladder. Placing his weight on his arms and his stronger limb, Sam began the grueling, taxing task of climbing the ladder, each jump step he made sending even more spikes of agony coursing through his body. By the time he had reached the top, Sam was gasping for breath, his hair plastered to his head, his t-shirt moulded to his body as sweat from pain and the effort of climbing the ladder poured from his body. Holding tightly to the guard rail he inched his way forward towards the edge, his eyes pinpointed straight ahead in an attempt not to look down.

Panic overcame him as he reached the end of the rail, just the thought of having to let go, that he would have to go the rest of the way unaided, sending shivers of fear through him. Reluctantly he started to limp forward, his hand releasing the bar with great effort. He realized his mistake almost immediately, his mind focused on not looking down the pain he had been feeling had retreated somewhat to the back of his mind, the minute he placed his weight on his damaged leg though it all came flooding back, his ankle protested at the movement twisting beneath him and sent Sam crashing to the platform. The resulting jar to his battered body was like sustaining the beating once again as spasm after spasm of agony was sent racing through every inch of his being.

Forgetting where he was, Sam rolled to his side wanting to curl up in a ball and wait the agony out, he was too near the edge though and before he knew it he was rolling off the board. He never had the chance to grab hold of anything, before he was falling thirty three feet to the water below. Sam hit hard, his injured groin, side and leg taking the full impact, he instinctively cried out from the pain the scream never materializing as his mouth filled with water, some seeping down his throat, tickling his lungs and making him cough and splutter.

Coldness seemed to envelop him as the now freezing water made itself known. Sam's brain fought to let itself be heard through all the aches, he needed to get out of the water. Still trying to catch his breath, coughs still emanating from him, Sam started to fight his way to the edge and the steps built into the side of the pool, reaching them he tried to drag his sodden, battered body from the water. The effort proved too much though, with his lower half still in the water, Sam's reserves finally gave out and he slumped unconscious to the cold tiled floor.

**A.N. Well this was originally going to be a really long one shot, but the bunny ran away from me and it's turned into a three shot which hopefully will be posted over the next three days. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed, Peanut x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Diving In A Pool Of Pain.**

**Summary. . . . . Months of bullying finally comes to a head for Sam, hurt and alone will he be able to get help? Or will he succumb to a pool of pain?**

**A.N. . . . . Just wanted to make a quick mention here to Sammygirl1963, thanks for the plotline and being my beta on this one, without your help and advice I'm not to sure I would have gotten this far! That being said all mistakes are mine. **

**Also thank you so much for the amazing reviews and adds to fav lists, I will try and get personal response out as soon as possible. Catch you soon, enjoy chapter 2, Peanut x**

Chapter 2

Dean cruised along the stretch of road that led to their current run down home on the edge of town. Although situated on the more affluent side of town, as usual John Winchester had found the most completely trashed property he could find. Even though the weather outside wasn't overly warm, Dean had the windows rolled down, the music blaring and had taken to singing along with the AC-DC track he had playing. To him his life was near perfect. Since graduating, he spent his day's fine tuning the Impala, his nights either hunting or hustling. He somehow managed to fit women into the equation occasionally, loving and leaving a whole string of them before they became too clingy.

As he pulled up the dirt road that acted as their driveway, Dean thought about the one thing, the one person that was becoming less and less constant in his life, the one person who would make that near perfect complete, Sam. The time he spent with his brother was becoming more infrequent and Dean knew that he was totally to blame. He had tried at first to include Sam in his ventures, but even though he was tall for his age he still looked too young to fool most of the bouncers. If Dean was on a date, it didn't look too good to have his baby brother tagging along too. And as for when he was tinkering with his baby, well Dean didn't even want to go there; for all his brains, when it came to cars, Sam was bottom of the class.

Pulling to a stop in front of their house, Dean thought about Sam realizing that since they had moved here he hadn't spent any time with him at all. He tried to think of a conversation he'd had with Sam, but none came to mind. He tried to think if Sam had mentioned how he was going on at school, if he was enjoying it, if the classes were going well, if the other students were okay, but for the first time ever Dean realized he knew nothing. He had always known before, he was always the first to know if Sam got an A, or heaven forbid a B, he was always the first to know if Sam was participating in any school activities, and he was always the first to know if Sam was getting bullied. This term though Dean thought to himself, he had no idea what so ever.

The thought that he knew so little about Sam's life here scared Dean immensely. Vowing to himself to change that Dean turned off the engine and got out of the car, glancing at his watch and seeing it was only one thirty, Dean decided to surprise Sam by picking him up from school, something else he had gotten out of the habit of doing. Knowing he had two good hours to spare before he needed to leave and with his stomach growling out in protest, Dean let himself into the house Sam once again pushed to the back of his mind as the need to feed took over his thoughts. Fixing himself a sandwich Dean popped himself on the ratty sofa with the TV remote, within minutes he was asleep, a half eaten sandwich forgotten resting on the arm of the couch, as was Sam.

The ringing of his cell phone broke through his dreams of scantily clad playboy bunnies, and for a moment Dean forgot where he was. As the phone rang again Dean jumped to his feet, knocking over the half eaten sandwich in his haste to get to the damn mobile. Pulling it from his jacket pocket he looked at the caller id and grimaced in response before answering.

"Hey Dad."

"Don't you hey Dad me. I've been calling for over five minutes Dean. Where the hell were you? Why didn't you answer your phone? Do you know how worried I got?"

Dean had removed the phone from his ear as his Dad's voice steadily increased in volume, returning it when it grew silent and he knew it was time to answer. Not wanting his Dad to know he had been sleeping, he replied. "Sorry, I was outside. The Impala was sounding a bit off, so I was checking her over. Is everything okay? Did the hunt go well?" Dean asked even if he knew the answer, the hunt must have gone okay there was no other way for their Dad to have called. Dean knew he was ringing to tell them to get packing, that they would be on the move yet again. His Dad's words confirmed his suspicions.

"The hunt went well. I'm a few of hours out; I want you and your brother to start packing. Tell your brother not to pack any of the useless crap he doesn't need like he did last time, we don't have the space. And tell him that I don't want any dramatics about leaving again."

"Yes Sir." Dean automatically answered, not relishing the thought of telling Sam.

"Three hours Dean, get moving." John barked out before cutting the call.

Placing the phone back into his pocket, Dean looked at his watch thinking that he had only napped and could still pick Sam up, shock registering on his face when he caught sight of the actual time, it was five thirty. He had slept for four hours. He called out Sam's name knowing that he should be home by now, expecting a ribbing from his younger brother for sleeping through his return, but the only response he received was the soft hum of the small refrigerator and the occasional banging of the old heater pipes. Thinking that maybe Sam was also snoozing, Dean walked down the hallway towards the bedroom they shared, the door though stood ajar revealing Sam's neatly made bed and his unkempt one.

He tried to remember if Sam had mentioned staying behind for any reason, but yet again he was harshly reminded of how little he knew of his brother's life here, how far the distance between them had stretched. He walked briskly back into the kitchen, picking up his keys and his jacket he headed out of the back door, he might end up with egg on his face and looking like a fool, but Dean needed to make sure Sam was okay, a niggling in his gut beginning to make itself known. Pulling sharply out of the driveway he headed for the school.

Dean screeched to halt outside the school twenty minutes later the knawing in his gut increasing by the minute. Climbing out of the Impala he locked her before racing up the stone steps to the multiple front entrances and pulling on a door. It was locked. He tried one of the other doors, only to find them too to be locked. He pounded on the glass in the hopes that a teacher, a student, a janitor, someone, could still be inside, but no heads poked out of classrooms, no shouts of protest rang out. Dean climbed back down the steps and began walking around the schools perimeter hoping to find another entrance, one that would hopefully be open. As he rounded the back the school's massive gym and pool structures could be seen, Dean glanced briefly at them wondering if Sam had joined some sort of team and was practicing, his thoughts interrupted by the banging close of a door and a group of people leaving the school heading towards their cars, rushing up to them Dean tried to get their attention.

"Excuse me! Excuse me! Hey stop!" A man and women finally turned around, shooting him wary looks. Dean smiled trying to put them at ease before he asked. "I'm sorry to trouble you but I'm trying to locate my brother, he attends here."

It was the man that answered bitingly. "School finished over four hours ago. Have you tried at home?"

The man's tone infuriated Dean so much he didn't take in all that he said at first. "I just came from there." Dean spat out.

"Well then I'm sorry but we can't help you, he obviously isn't here."

Dean could only stand there bewildered, watching as the man and woman climbed into their car, only as they were about to close the doors did the rest of the man's words register. "Wait! What do you mean school finished hours ago?"

The man sighed before replying. "Surely you must know that today was a PTA day, your brother goes to this school supposedly. Classes finished at one thirty."

Dean felt as though the ground beneath his feet had begun to shift as the enormity of the guys words hit him. He looked at his watch once more, just gone six o clock, if school finished at one thirty that meant Sam should have been home no later than two thirty, yet three and a half hours later he was no where to be found. Fear and dread began to replace that nagging ache; all kinds of thoughts began invading Dean's head. It was totally unlike Sam not to have called if he had made plans even if they barely talked anymore, something must have happened.

Called! Called! Of course why hadn't Dean thought of it sooner? Pulling out his cell Dean dialed Sam's number only to have it constantly ring before going to voicemail. Hanging up Dean tried again, only to get the same result. Panic beginning to set in Dean wracked his brain for an answer as to where Sam could be but it was to no avail, knowing so little about his brother's life here Dean had no clue where to start looking. Dialing a different number, Dean waited for the call to be answered.

"Dean? What's the matter? What's wrong?"

"Dad, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Dean, calm down. Tell me what's wrong?"

"I can't find Sam, Dad. I came to school to pick him up thinking he had been held up, but I didn't know that they finished early today. He should have been home hours ago. He's not at home, he's not here, I don't know where to start looking."

"Have you tried the library? You know how he gets when he's researching anything. He probably has his head stuck in a book and doesn't even realize the time."

"No, I haven't I'll try there now."

"Okay, call me when you find him, and don't forget Dean I want the packing down by the tine I get home."

"Yes sir." After Dean had hung up he tried ringing Sam again. As he rushed back to the Impala, his mind was bombarded with a multitude of ifs. If only he had taken more of an interest in Sam this year. If only he had known that school was suppose to finish early today. If only he hadn't fallen asleep. If only he hadn't forgotten how important Sam was. If only he hadn't forgotten his main job in life.

As he turned around the side of the building and headed back to the car park, still desperately trying to get Sam on the phone more ifs popped up, but Dean would not become aware of them, not yet anyway. If only he had known Sam had swim class today. If only he had checked out the pool. If only he had gone back the other way; maybe then he might have heard the faint familiar ring tone emanating from within the pools building.

By eight o clock Dean's nerves were frazzled. The checking of the library had produced no results; checking back at home had produced the same. He had resorted to asking at the diner they sometimes ate at when their Dad was home, the small mall, the video store, the ball park, even as a last resort the hospital, but he had turned up nothing. On the recommendations of someone at the video store, Dean was now on the way to the lake on the outskirts of town, the guy at the store insisting that it was the place all the kids hung out, rain or shine.

His thoughts drifted back to Sam, was he okay and just pissed for some reason? Had he been abducted? If so was it something supernatural? Or worse human? Was he hurt somewhere? Or was he . . . . . ? Dean refused to even go there, Sam was alive and Dean would turn over every rock, every stone to find him. Dean's phone began to ring on the seat beside him, picking it up he answered without looking at the caller id, hope resounding in his tone.

"Sammy?"

"No Dean, its Dad. Where the hell are you?"

"Dad, I can't find him. I can't find Sam, Dad. Something is wrong I just know it. I've looked every where and no one has seen him." Dean's sentences rushed together in fear and urgency.

John felt as though he had just been punched in the gut. He had walked into their ramshackle house five minutes previous expecting all the packing to be done and the boys ready to get going, only to be greeted by an empty house looking exactly as it had when he had left, and the boys nowhere to be seen. His anger had risen and he had let forth with a string of profanities and curses, all aimed at his youngest son. Dean had told him Sam was late home and he was looking for him, his oldest must have found his rebellious youngest, told him the news, and Sam had obviously reacted as he always did. When was Sam going to learn that not everything revolved around him? John had decided that he would have to start being tougher with his youngest child, would have to bring him back in line. After hearing Dean's fearful words though, John was starting to doubt his anger and his reaction towards Sam. No matter how annoyed, angry, or frustrated he was at the constant moving, John knew Sam would never deliberately worry Dean like this. Dean was right something must have happened. Guilt began to build within John, how could he have doubted his youngest child so? He refused to allow himself to wallow in it though and quickly asked. "Where are you now? I'll meet up with you and we'll go from there."

"I'm heading for the lake on the other side of town; apparently it's where all the kids hang out. I know it's a long shot that Sam would be there, but I thought I would check it out anyway."

"I'll be there in twenty."

Dean could hear door's banging shut and the growl of his Dad's truck before the line was cut. Forcing his attention back onto the road his eyes began frantically searching for the blind turn that would lead him to the part of the lake the kids preferred. He still missed it when he came upon it, having to turn the big car around to get back to it. So consumed with the need to find Sam, Dean didn't even notice how bumpy the road had become, didn't even think about what damage would be caused to the Impala. He noted the trees ahead begin to thin out as the car lurched closer towards the lake, noted the reddish glow that brightened the dulling sky, as the Impala finally broke the tree line he realized what the glow was coming from.

About twenty or so cars were parked haphazardly around, some still occupied, steamy windows telling Dean what was going on in them, others empty. A large group of kids were congregated on the shoreline where a huge bonfire was blazing. To the far end loud music was blasting from a four by four, a gang of boys leaning against the heavy machine, even from inside the car Dean could see the empty beer bottles that were littered all around. He swore briefly, that if Sam were here he was personally going to kill him, but deep down Dean knew that Sam wasn't going to be here, that this had really been a wasted trip, that all it might accomplish would be some clues as to where he could possibly be.

Dean got out of the car, not noticing the appreciative glances and whistles the guys were giving the Impala; or the ones the girls were giving him. Moving towards the first group, Dean started asking questions. Did they know Sam? If they did, had they seen him today? Did they know anybody he hung out with? It didn't take long for Dean to realize just how far he and Sam had drifted, just how little he knew of his brother's life here. His questions for the most part were met with sneers and snickers, with comments of "you have got to be kidding me" or "that dork, geek, loser." With every group he asked it was the same, and with every group he asked Dean could feel his guilt rise, along with his anger.

He looked at the last group, the ones sitting or standing around the four by four, contemplating whether or not to even bother going over there, Sam was obviously not here and Dean was obviously wasting precious time. Turning around he headed back towards the Impala, knowing he was to meet his Dad there he sat on the hood to wait, his eyes taking in the scene before him, his anger knawing at his mind. "Bunch of spoilt trust fund babies." Dean thought to himself. "You would have been privileged to have had Sam as your friend. He's worth a hundred of you lot any day." A gentle clearing of a throat stopped his brooding and had Dean turning to see who it had come from. A girl about Sam's age stood before him, blonde hair falling past one of the most stunning faces Dean had ever seen to fall in gentle waves across her shoulders, an unsure look upon her face.

"Hi." Dean spoke up, trying to put her at ease so he could find out what she wanted.

"Hey." She answered still feeling nervous. "Some of the guys tell me that you're looking for Sam?" A blush formed on her face as she finished.

"Way to go Sammy!" Dean thought before cursing himself and actually replying. "Yeah, I am. He didn't arrive home and I'm getting worried that he might be hurt, or something could have happened to him."

"Then why are you here? Why aren't you looking for him?"

"I don't understand? I've looked every where else, someone said all the kids hang out here."

"All the 'popular' kids, all the kids that fit in, that have money." Kris stopped for a minute thinking before adding. "Are you close to Sam?"

It was Dean's turn to think before he answered honestly. "I used to be, but since we moved here we seem to have drifted."

"Then you don't know how hellish these guys have made Sam's life here? Did you never question him about his cuts and bruises? Did you never question him about the ripped or lost clothes? Or his constant detentions because of lost homework?"

Dean's face blanched, now that this girl mentioned it Sam had come home with mysterious cuts and bruises, Dean had often caught him sowing his clothes, and Sam had come home late quite often. "Shit!" He growled out. "I can't believe I didn't take more notice, didn't care. Hell it never even clicked when he dawdled at getting up in the mornings." Dean kicked at a stone trying to unleash some of his anger, he couldn't believe he had been so blind, so blinkered, so unknowing of what Sam had been going through. Turning back to the girl, guilt and anger radiating from his eyes he asked. "Who was the ring leader? Would he know where Sam is? There's no way Sam would have run off, he's gotta be hurt somewhere. Please help me find him."

Kris didn't hesitate, she too had a feeling that something bad had happened to Sam. He had been happy when she had left him, it didn't make sense that he would have run away. Pointing at the loud four by four she spoke up. "Drew and his buddies, others have joined in but they have been the instigators. I saw Sam happy for the first time today, it doesn't make sense that he would have run away. Something must have happened in swim class, if so they would know."

Not stopping to wait for an answer Dean shouted over his shoulder as he stormed over.. "Which one is Drew?"

"The jerk in the jean jacket." Kris replied, following close behind.

"Drew?" Dean belted out when he was still a few feet away.

"Yeah! Who wants to know?" Drew replied, trying hard to act tough but at the same time taking a tentative step around his truck away from the rampaging bull that was approaching.

"Dean Winchester! Where's Sam?"

"Obviously not here." The younger boy shot back, laughing along with his friends at his response, still not quite realizing just how angry Dean was.

"Where is Sam?" Dean spat back, his fury emphasized in every word.

"I don't know, last we saw of him was in swim class." Drew replied unable to stop himself from adding. "He had a bit of a fall."

Dean was irate, he bolted forward ready to hurt Drew, not caring that it would be seven against one, or that he would be arrested. An angry voice behind him, stopping him short.

"Dean! What the hell are you doing?

Without even turning around Dean replied. "He knows what has happened to Sam. He knows where he is. I'm going to hurt him."

"And what about Sam? How will you find him then? What would he feel if you got yourself arrested?"

Dean seemed to deflate before John's eyes. "We have to find him Dad. They know where he is, I just know it."

It was John this time that turned angry eyes Drew's way, his voice though was eerily calm and strong, yet dripping with a deadly undertone. "Where is my son?"

"We don't know."

"Stop lying to me."

"We're not, the last time we saw him was after swim class."

John stepped closer to Drew, bending to his ear he whispered so that only the younger boy could hear. "When we find Sam you better hope he's okay, that he doesn't even have a single scratch on him. I'll warn you now, if you have hurt him I will find you and believe me when I say, your parents will never ever find your body." Turning away he grasped Dean's shoulder. "C'mon son, something tells me we need to head back to the school."

Leaving everyone else standing there, the two Winchester's headed for their respective cars, totally missing Kris' left hook to the face that sent the jock crashing to the floor. John led the way back to the school, his speed at times shocking Dean and leaving the impala eating dust. Parking in the same spot as he had earlier that night Dean got out and led his Dad around to the back off the school. Even though it was now dark, both men were surprised to see a light on in the pool's building. Running up to the door nearest to the lighted window they both began to bang wildly upon it hoping to alert whoever was still inside.

When nobody came Dean turned to his Dad. "Pick it! Sam's in there. Pick it!" Little puffy clouds visible with every word as the chillness of the night let itself known.

John made swift work of the lock and both men were soon thundering down the hall towards what they now could see to be the coach's office, the coach slumped against his desk inside. Opening the door John stepped inside, Dean hesitating on the threshold before speaking. "I'm going to check the locker room."

John nodded his agreement as he walked up to the obviously sleeping man, the closer he got the stronger the smell of alcohol became. Not holding back John grabbed the man's shirt, pulling him up and pinning him to the wall in one swift motion.

"What the . . . ." The coach slurred, his eyes barely opening.

Before John could answer, Dean's panicked fearful cry sounded out. Dropping the coach John ran the way Dean had gone, finding his eldest stood in the doorway of the locker room, his lock pick kit in his hand.

"Dean what is it?"

Dean didn't bother to reply, he didn't need to. As John became level with Dean he could see for himself what had gotten his son so distressed. There was blood trailing along the floor, streaks also visible on the walls. In his heart John knew that it was Sam's. Following the trail, all the while trying not to think about how much there was, the two men passed the open locker where obvious signs of a struggle could clearly be seen. Following it even further they saw the entrance to the pool area, walking through it they tried to brace themselves for what they would find. Unable to see much in the gloomy room, John returned to the locker room groping the walls in search of a light switch. Finally finding it he turned it on and started to make his way back to Dean. His eldest son's cries though once again met his ears.

Dean had flinched once the lights had switched on, his eyes closed automatically against the harshness. Opening them slowly he waited for them to adjust to the light before looking around. He caught sight of the blood trail on the wall stopping a little way down as though someone had rested there. Dean turned his head the other way to see if the trail continued the other side. He didn't need to see it though to know that it did, as his eyes caught sight of something at the far end of the pool.

"SAMMY! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO."

**A.N.2. . . . . . I'm so sorry! I know that I originally said that I would post this over three days but the plot bunny has stocked up on Ever Readies and is furiously refusing to stop writing, to the point where this could even become a foursome. I'm still aiming to get the next part up tomorrow, but if I don't succeed please bare with me. Peanut x**


	3. Chapter 3

Diving In A Pool Of Pain

**Diving In A Pool Of Pain**

**Summary. . . . . . Months of bullying come to a head for Sam, alone and in pain will he be able to get help? Or will he succumb to a pool of pain?**

**Disclaimer. . . . . Forgot about these things! Not mine never will be yada, yada, yada. Mistakes though are mine and while I try and get everyone, some eventually get past. Also I'm not someone who works in medicine and I'm not the best at research, so if anything about the medicinal terms seems off please forgive me!**

**A.N. . . . . . Real life what a B it can be at times, I'm sorry for the late post, but between work and this fic completely running away with me things have been hectic. **

**I have to take time to apologize yet again for not yet getting around to responding personally to all the awesome reviews, I hope to eventually do so just as soon as this one is finished, thank you to each and every one though as always they're very much appreciated. Hope you enjoy chapter 3, happy reading, Peanut x**

Dean raced around the side of the pool. Dropping to his knees, gasping slightly as the chill of the water lapped against his ankles, he reached forward a trembling hand towards Sam's neck desperately wanting to feel the steady thump, thump, thump beneath his fingers, crying out in anguish when his digits felt nothing. He moved his hand slightly, thinking that maybe he was checking in the wrong place, but all he could feel was Sam's cold, lifeless body. Dean frantically turned Sam over, he knew how to do CPR, he could bring Sam back. Tilting his head back, Dean breathed into Sam before placing his hands over his chest and pushing, one breath, fifteen pushes, one breath, fifteen pushes, and on and on and on. He felt his Dad's hand rest upon his shoulder, heard his words but wouldn't believe what he was telling him.

"Dean, stop! It's too late, Dean." Fifteen pushes.

"Dean! It's too late, Dean." One breath.

"It's too late, Dean." Fifteen pushes.

"Dean!" One breath.

"Dean!"

"Dean!"

"DEAN!" Dean startled awake, gasping for breath and trembling slightly, perspiration gathering on his lip and forehead. The remnant of the dream still resided in his head bringing tears to his eyes as he remembered the events of twenty four hours ago. He swiped at them angrily, what was he crying for? He wasn't the one lying so still on a hospital bed, tubes and wires and machines helping him to stay alive. He wasn't the one who was "lucky" because the chill of the water had slowed his heart enough so that the blood loss wasn't as bad as it could have been. He wasn't the one whose body was so broken, so traumatized that it had started to shut down leaving the doctor no choice but to put it into a drug induced coma, allowing it some time to fix itself. He wasn't the one whose face had been punched and kicked so much it had blown up to twice it's size and was barely recognizable, the healthy tan it usually carried now replaced by ugly bruises of purple's, and black's, and green's. No, he was just the one who had let his brother down. He was the one who had forgotten how important Sam was. He was the one who had placed hunting, hustling, and women above his most prized possession. So what the hell was he crying for?

He looked up at the hand that still rested on his shoulder as it gave him a reassuring squeeze once more. "It's not your fault Dean, it's theirs. Sam's stubborn, he's a fighter, he's a Winchester. He'll find his way back."

Dean rolled his eyes making sure his Dad couldn't see him. He wished with all his heart that he could believe the words he had just spoken, but the doctor's words kept on repeating themselves in his head. Hairline fracture to the knee, badly sprained ankle, broken nose, fractured cheekbone, severe concussion resulting from a head wound, broken ribs, punctured lung, the list went on and on, and with every injury mentioned Dean had felt a little bit more guilt eat away at his insides. He looked around the empty hospital room his eyes briefly flittering across his Dad, who tired and disheveled was now back in his own hard plastic chair, before they rested on the place where Sam should be, his bed now removed as he faced his second surgery in as many days, this time to fix the injury that still sent chills throughout Dean's body.

Subconsciously Dean's mind took him back to the sight of his little brother laying half in and half out of the freezing water. He vividly remembered the pool of blood that rested like some kind of grotesque halo around Sam's damage face. He vividly remembered the short plumes of steam that assured Dean that despite all the damage Sam was still alive. He vividly remembered the disgust, the indignity of it all as he finally pulled Sam from the water and noticed his near nakedness, noticed even more blood forming, noticed the swelling on one side, the rupture on the other. Mixed emotions had assaulted Dean at that point, he gravely wanted to punish someone, he desperately wanted to take all Sam's pain away, he urgently wanted to be sick, but most of all he wanted to turn back time, to start afresh, to be more of the brother that Sam deserved. It all made no sense to him, they hunted evil, and they had done most of their lives, yet for the first time Dean had to wonder if the true evil out there was a lot closer to home.

Noises coming from the hallway broke through Dean's contemplations, both he and his Dad standing as Sam's bed was rolled back into the room and pushed back into place, his doctor's voice sounding out.

"John, Dean, could I speak with you both outside?" Noticing their reluctance he added. "You'll both be in the way as they set Sam's machines back up, as soon as they have finished you'll be let back in."

Both older Winchester's followed the young doctor back outside, both still not wanting to leave the youngest member of their rag tag family, but both desperately wanting to hear news of his latest battle.

"How did my son's surgery go?" John asked as soon as they had stepped into the hallway.

"It went well. He came through the procedure fine."

"Then why do I feel as though there is a "but" coming?" Dean asked this time.

"We were unable to save the right testes, the blow I'm afraid was too severe, and the damage extensive, the only option was removal. Added to that, we're still worried about the other organ and will be keeping a close eye on its progress as the swelling starts to reduce; if it starts to deteriorate then we may have to remove that also. There's still a good chance that even though we wont have to remove it, the left could have been damaged enough to prevent future reproduction."

Dean sagged as the doctor's words registered, while he himself saw no children in his future, Sam did. Sam saw the homely wife, the white picket fences, the two point four kids, he craved normality and Dean knew this news would crush his younger brother. His anger at Drew intensified and it took all of Dean's control not to bolt from the hospital find the guy and beat the living crap out of him. Trying not to think about how he was going to give Sam that news Dean asked. "What about the rest of his injuries? Is the brain swelling coming down? What about his lung?"

The doctor looked at the two distraught men before him, initially he hadn't known how to take them, he'd seen the numerous old scarring that had marred Sam's body, and he'd had no choice but to report what he had found, now though he wished he hadn't. He had seen first hand the protectiveness, the love they both had for his young patient, the inquisitiveness they had to find out every single bit of news about his recovery. He sighed deeply before answering.

"The swelling is reducing, but not as quickly as we had hoped. Scans are still encouraging though, his brain activity is increasing steadily. We just have to give him time. His lung is functioning well since his surgery yesterday and we should be able to start weaning him off the ventilator tomorrow morning, if that goes well we can look at reducing the sedatives and start to bring him out of the coma."

Both Winchester's breathed a sigh of relief, the doctor though hadn't finished. He had hoped to hold the next bit of news off, but he knew that the sooner they knew, the more time they would have to come to terms with it. "There's one more thing." He tentatively began. "I've had to set Sam up for a psyche evaluation."

"What?" Both Winchester's stated at once.

"I've arranged for Dr. Williams our psychiatric consult to talk to Sam as soon as he's awake. He's in for some rough month's ahead dealing with his injuries, the attack and his loss. In my opinion it would be in Sam's best interest to do this."

John and Dean just stood there open mouthed; this was something they hadn't contemplated. They knew that Sam would have to talk; it was after all Sam, but to some stranger? The thoughts of both men were interrupted by the nurses leaving Sam's room, looking hopefully at the doctor they waited for the okay to return, rushing back to Sam's side when they received it, effectively dismissing the doctor. The physician watched as they took their usual place either side of Sam's bed before he headed away. Even though his back was to the door, Dean knew the instant the doctor had left; carefully taking Sam's hand in his he spoke without taking his eyes off his younger brother.

"He won't talk."

"I know."

"Then what will we do? They could refuse to release him; they could even take him away."

"Once he's awake, we'll leave. You know your brother; he's more likely to recover faster if he's not stuck in a hospital."

"Where will we go though? We can't go back to the house, and a motel room isn't exactly a great environment to get better in, so where?"

"We'll go to Jim or Caleb's."

Dean seemed happy enough with that decision and focused his attention once again upon Sam. John watched as his eldest tried his best to offer comfort to his youngest, he knew that the doctor's words had rattled Dean, hell they had rattled him. Deep down he also knew that the evaluation wasn't just for what Sam had been through recently, he remembered the doctor's open hostility towards them when he had come to see them after Sam's initial checking over, John had known straight away that the hostility was because of the scars that littered Sam's body, some of which were caused by every day hazards but most of which were supernaturally put there. Ever since then John had been waiting for the CPS to drop by, and they were someone who he truly dreaded facing. He knew that Dean would be okay, at nineteen he was old enough to take care of himself, but John knew that at not quite fifteen Sam was in danger of being taken away.

John didn't know what he would do if Sam were ever taken away, for all he rode on his youngest, treating him poorly at times, snapping at him frequently during the past few years, he loved his baby boy dearly. To lose him, John knew, would be the death of his small family, and that was something he just couldn't allow to happen. Taking another quick glance at his two sons, John rose from his chair, kissing Sam softly on his head he headed for the door to make plans, stopping on the threshold as Dean's voice rang out.

"I can guess at what you said to Drew Dad, but he's mine!"

John looked back to see his eldest sons eyes blazing fury, a very small miniscule part of him feeling sorry for what was to become of Drew, taking another glance at Sam though that small feeling was soon extinguished. Nodding he spoke up. "Okay, just make sure you're careful. When are you going?"

"I'll wait until Sam wakes." Dean answered watching as his Dad, seemingly happy with his response, left the room. Turning back to Sam, Dean began whispering encouraging words. "I know you can hear me geek boy. You have to fight your way through this. I know it's gonna be hard, that it's gonna be tough, that it's gonna be painful. . . . ." Dean paused as his voice broke, eyes watering he added. "But I need you back by my side Sam. I need to make things up to you, I need to prove to you that I'm still good big brother, I need to prove to you that you're still my main priority in life. I love you little brother, please hold onto that."

Dean had to stop as tears ran incessantly down his face, and sobs wracked his frame. How could he have messed up so badly? How could he have forgotten Sam so easily? He forced himself to calm down, forced himself to be stronger, forced himself to think of ways to avenge his brother; a smile forming on his lips as a plan began to form.

Sam continued to show signs of improvement throughout the next few days and true to the doctor's words the ventilator had been removed, and the sedatives that had kept the youngest Winchester under had also been reduced, his doctor insisting that Sam would start to come around soon. Dean and John had sat at his bedside ever since, neither one wanting to leave for any reason and miss him waking, both men relying on Caleb, who had showed up yesterday to help when Sam left, to bring them food and drink, both men too attentive to any movement Sam made to even think of anything else. It started out slowly with the barest move of his fingers or head, a slight twitch of his leg; for John and Dean used to seeing Sam so lively even whilst sleeping, these small steps felt like giant leaps.

As Sam fought back to consciousness and began to note the pain and restrictions he began to panic and move all the more, both older Winchester's trying their best to calm him down, yet at the same time encourage him to wake up. Hours passed and both men began to wonder if the beating Sam had sustained had damaged him more than they thought when Sam finally managed to force his good eye open. He blinked it a few times trying to get his vision to focus properly, but no matter how many times he tried to clear it, it always came back blurry. He let out a groan of pain as his unused optical nerve protested at the brightness of the room and sent signals to his head and stomach, the former began throbbing unmercilessly, the latter starting to roll and slosh alarmingly.

Sam tried to sit up knowing what was about to come, but just couldn't seem to coordinate his tired body. Fuzzy shapes encroached on his vision startling Sam, sending waves of panic over him. He thought he could hear them speaking, but it was difficult to tell over the thudding of his heart and the white noise that seemed to be getting louder, the voices drawn out and muffled. He grabbed at the person to the right of him trying to push him away, his muddled mind seeing him as a threat, but the shape stayed rooted to the spot. He groaned again as the need to be sick increased, he tried to get the words to form, tried to get his mouth to work, but the words seemed blocked by the fast approaching bile.

Sam, defeated and drained, dropped his hand back to the bed and waited for the inevitable sickness to arrive. Because his struggles subsided his heart stopped pounding as much and his brain began to pick up more of the words being spoken. "Alright. . . . Okay. . . . Relax. . . . Hurt yourself. . . . Sammy." At that last word Sam began to cry, that was Dean. Dean could help him, Dean would make this all better, Dean could take away all the pain and nausea. Sam tried again to form the words to let Dean know of his distress, grasping hold of his arm again, this time recognizing the soft leather of his jacket, he tried to pull his brother forward. Dean must have understood as the shape stooped lower, mustering all his strength Sam managed to croak out. "Gon' b sic."

His words must have been enough as he was soon being gently lifted and a basin placed before him, and finally Sam allowed the nausea to over come him. He cried out in agony as the first heave ripped through his body, screamed when the second one struck, by the time he was finished he had been reduced to a quivering, sweating wreak, balancing just this side of consciousness. He grasped for Dean's hand again, and the strength that he always seemed to get from his brother, relaxing some as Dean took his hand in his own and gently squeezed it. He heard Dean talking again and tried to push his pain aside so he could listen, again only picking up limited words. "Okay. . . . Sleep. . . . Here. . . . Wake up." Sam gave Dean's hand a squeeze back in understanding before allowing himself to fall once more into oblivion.

**A.N. . . . . Was It okay? Just one more chapter to go, can't say when that will be posted, though I'm kinda hoping for the beginning of the week. Catch you soon and as always thanks for taking time to read, Peanut x**


	4. Chapter 4

Diving In A Pool Of Pain

**Diving In A Pool Of Pain.**

**Summary. . . . . . Months of bullying finally come to a head for Sam, hurt and alone will he be able to get help? Or will he succumb in a pool of pain?**

**Disclaimer. . . . . Not mine, never will be, I'm just messing with them for fun!**

**A.N. . . . . . Well this one shot is still running a way from me and refuses to slow down. Whilst we're close to the end we're not quite there yet and there will be another chapter after this one. Again I'm sorry for the wait, enjoy, Peanut x**

"The nausea was to be expected, I'm afraid. I would have been more concerned if Sam didn't react the way he did." The doctor explained, after checking his young patient over, his beeper having alerted him that Sam had woken. "I'm going to assume that this isn't the first concussion that Sam has had, and probably isn't his second?" The guilty looks from both older Winchester's all the answer he needed. "Each time you sustain a concussion it takes longer to recover. Sam's going to experience dizziness, nausea, headaches, vision problems, even some memory loss for months to come, and with the severity of this latest blow the symptoms could last even longer. I don't mean to worry you, but you need to be aware of what to look for." The doctor paused whilst he wrote something on Sam's charts, once he had finished he added. "Sam, apart from wearing himself out didn't do any further damage. I did notice some wheezing in his lungs though, so I'm going to start him on some heavy duty antibiotics, I don't believe his system could fight pneumonia on top of his other injuries. I'm guessing that he must have swallowed some water when he fell, and of course whilst the cold kept other injuries from worsening it won't have help this. I'll send a nurse in with the new medications and some extra blankets. No matter how much he protests, keep him covered and warm. If he wakes again, call for the nurse and we'll see about getting some solids into him. He'll need more nutrients than the IV can give him if he wants to start getting better."

The doctor left them both to contemplate Sam's latest troubles. They both agreed that if Sam did indeed contact pneumonia, the prospects for recovery did not look good, the bout of sickness that he had just had left him completely drained and they could only imagine what harsh coughing added to the mix would do to their youngest member. Dean's anger at the perpetrators increased to the point of rage. How could his brother, who in his short life had never hurt anyone, be reduced to this? What justice was there when Sam was reduced to a wreck, his immune system so ravaged he was unable to cope with an illness that in this day and age was easily treatable, when his attackers got away scot free and were probably out there laughing it up? The police unable to do anything due to the lack of witnesses, and the alibis the boys and the coach gave each other. There was no justice, but there would be revenge. Drew wouldn't get away with it.

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Dean thought back on the doctor's words and his plans for revenge on Drew, as for what felt like the hundredth time in three days Sam woke yet again, tired, confused and in pain. With his Dad finalizing plans for their imminent departure Dean gently raised Sam and held the metal bowl as he heaved the small amount of soup he had eaten just half an hour earlier into it. The pneumonia the doctor had worried about had not progressed, the aggressive antibiotics they had pumped into Sam's system successfully fighting the illness off; giving the Winchester's their first bit of good news, but leaving Sam feeling even sicker to his stomach. As Sam finished throwing up, Dean removed the bowl and slowly guided Sam back down to the bed, pleased to note that his brother didn't immediately drop back off, instead just lying there blinking tired eyes at him. Knowing that Sam's throat had been stripped raw between the ventilator and the constant sickness, Dean was just content to sit there watching and comforting Sam in silence.

The door opening behind him had Dean's head turning to check who it was that had entered, only to turn his attention back to Sam as soon as he noticed it was just a nurse. He ignored her as se went about usual checking of Sam's lungs, blood pressure and temperature, only briefly glaring at her when Sam gasped as the cold end of the stethoscope was placed against his chest. Dean could hear her mumbling as she scribbled words on Sam's charts before everything went quiet once more. Thinking she had left he was caught by surprise when he heard her cough to get his attention. As he looked up she spoke.

"I need to check his wounds and give him a bath. If you would like to wait outside. . . ."

Dean didn't let her get any further cutting her off with a terse. "I aint leaving lady, work around me!"

"I'm sorry, but I must insist. . . ."

"And I insist I aint leaving."

"If you don't leave I'll have you forcibly removed."

"I'd like to see you try. They haven't succeeded so far."

The nurse looked like she was about to reply when a croaky, raspy voice spoke up. "De. . . .it's kay."

"Sammy, I aint leaving you."

"It's kay." The effort of just those few words clearly etched on Sam's face.

"Okay, Sam I'll leave."

Sam mustered up the strength to nod his approval and watched as Dean reluctantly left, glaring at the nurse as he did so. As he reached the doorway Dean stopped as a barely heard whisper came from the bed. To anyone else it would have gone unheard, but to Dean it came across loud and clear.

"Don' go far."

"I promise I won't Sam."

It was all Dean needed to be reassured that he was still needed. Determined to keep to his promise Dean walked only as far as the vending machine at the end of the hall, needing a coffee fix. Lost in thought he was startled when a voice spoke up next to him as he waited for his turn.

"Hey Dean." Lisa, one of Sam's regular nurses called out. "It's not often we see you out of Sam's room, what's the occasion?"

Dean smiled at the older woman; he had taken an instant liking to her as he had watched her tenderly treat Sam. "Hey Lisa, Sam's having his wounds checked and a bath, the nurse that's doing it all but chucked me out."

"It doesn't sound like you to be leaving Sam alone."

"I didn't want to, not whilst he was awake anyway, but he told me to go. I think he was embarrassed to be seen getting a bath. I'm just getting a coffee and I'll make my way back though."

"I'll wait with you and then walk back. I have Sam's latest meds with me."

Dean smiled again before walking to the machine, putting his money in he punched the numbers and watched as the brown cup fell and began to fill with the sludge they had the cheek to call coffee. His hand had just pulled the cup from the machine when he heard Sam's cries coming from down the hall. Dropping the cup he rushed back, hearing Lisa's footsteps behind him, reaching the room just in time to hear the nurse's callous words.

"Mr. Winchester, calm down right this minute. You are not the first person I've seen that has had his testes removed."

Dean was livid; his fists clenching at his sides in an attempt to keep from punching the woman, his eyes and veins bulging. "Step away from my brother, you sick bitch!" Spilled from his mouth at the same time as Lisa spoke. "Leave this room immediately. Wait in the nurse's lounge; I'll deal with you shortly. Go now!"

The woman left muttering under her breath about babying the patient. It took all of Lisa's strength to stop Dean from attacking her, in the end though it was Sam's cries that had an effect that her strength didn't. With a heavy heart Dean walked over to inspect the damage the nurse's words had done to Sam's already fragile mind. "Aw, shit Sam." Dean thought as he reached Sam's bedside to find his brother desperately trying to cover his disfigured parts. He immediately went about trying to help Sam, a wail of pure anguish coming from his sibling stopping him short, the guilt that had already been festering, rising once again to eat his insides even more.

"Dean. Dean. Dean!" Dean looked up at Lisa as she spoke. "You have to calm him down, now! His blood pressures rising too high calm him down. I'll see to his injury. Go!"

Dean reacted as if slapped; he couldn't have Sam hurt himself even more because of some stupid nurse. Grabbing Sam's hand effectively stopping his feeble attempts at covering himself, Dean clasped it in his own. With his other hand he stroked Sam's hair and attempted to get his brother to focus on him. No matter how hard he tried though Sam wouldn't respond, his mind numbed by the realization of what he had lost. As Sam's emotions continued to spiral out of control, Dean looked to Lisa for help.

"I'll get the doctor; we'll have to sedate him again." She shouted as she sprinted for the door, leaving Dean to still try and calm Sam down.

"What the hell happened?" Dean heard a few minutes later as an irate John Winchester ran closely behind Lisa and Sam's doctor into the room.

As the doctor and Lisa attended to Sam, Dean explained as best he could what had gone on, guessing at the parts he didn't know. "I was told to leave, another nurse was checking Sam over, I'm guessing he freaked out at being touched. . . . there. He started crying out and I rushed back. She told him. . . . . . she told him Dad, and not too nicely either. Lisa told me to calm Sam but I couldn't. I'm going to hurt that bitch!"

"Dean! I think we'll all pretend we didn't hear you say that." John shouted at his eldest, even if he wanted to hunt the nurse down himself. Noting that Sam had slipped back into a medicated sleep he added. "I want you to go back to the house, I want you to get some sleep, I want you to eat. You haven't slept or eaten properly since he was found, Sam will be out for a while." John looked to the doctor for confirmation.

"At least six hours." The doctor answered.

"I'll watch over Sam until you come back."

"No Dad, I'm not leaving him again!"

"Dean, this isn't up for discussion. Go home now!"

Dean glared at his Dad before realizing that this was a fight he wasn't about to win. Sparing a quick glance at Sam to reassure himself that his brother was indeed resting peacefully and safe, he turned and walked out of the room. After he was sure that Dean had left, John turned steely eyes Lisa's way.

"The nurse responsible is not to come any where near my son ever again. And in future nothing will be done to Sam without either me or his brother present. Do you understand me?"

Lisa was unnerved by John's outburst; her own anger was already simmering at the nurse's uncaring attitude. "Don't worry Mr. Winchester. If I have my way she won't even be a nurse here much longer." With that she left the room.

"You're gonna have to explain to Sam every thing that has happened and is happening to his body just as soon as he wakes up. He seems to be more aware now, so I'm going to set up that meeting with Dr. Willows for tomorrow afternoon." Sam's doctor spoke.

"Okay, thank you." John managed to steady his voice enough to say those few words, but his insides were in turmoil. It was too soon. Sam wasn't ready to be moved yet, but could they afford to take a chance and wait? John didn't think so. Taking out his phone and ignoring all the hospitals rules he dialed a number. "Caleb is everything ready?" There was a beat before he added. "Good, we move today." At least this way John thought, Sam would be asleep for most of the journey, avoiding all the pain it would no doubt cause.

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Dean had stormed from the hospital and returned to house determined to get an hours sleep and get back to Sam as soon as possible. Sleep though had failed to come, his mind refusing to switch off as it thought back over the past months trying to find signs that he could have missed, trying to remember if Sam had tried to tell him what he was going through. The more he thought, the more he remembered. Sam trying to talk to him, but getting brushed off. Sam trying to feign illness, but being told that he looked fine and to go to school, he should have realized then that something was wrong, but he didn't and Dean knew that was something he would have to live with for the rest of his life. Dean's need to make someone pay began to build up furiously within him again, and if that someone couldn't be himself then he would take his frustrations out on the next best thing. Drew! Grabbing his coat and his keys, Dean left the house yet again, sleep now completely forgotten. He needed to get some supplies first and check a few things out, but tonight Drew would pay.

After getting what he needed, Dean went on the hunt for Drew; finding him yet again out by the lake where yet another party was in full swing, fuelling yet more anger in Dean. Sam was broken and lying in a hospital bed and here was his attacker wasted and laughing it up. With his rage burning strong Dean crept his way through the trees and with a patience honed from years of hunting sat down to wait. Dean didn't have to wait too long before he saw Drew drift away from his group. His need to pee suddenly strong he staggered into the trees. Moving deftly Dean snuck up behind him and waited for him to finish. Drew didn't stand a chance, didn't even hear Dean, didn't know anything was wrong until he felt the blow to his head. Quickly gagging and blindfolding the younger boy, Dean tied his hands together before picking up a very dazed Drew and carrying him back to the beat up Ford he had boosted to do the job, the first part of his mission complete.

Driving carefully to avoid attention, Dean eased his way back across town and towards his destination, once there he gained entry just as easily as they had last time. Dragging Drew by his bound hands Dean walked the now familiar pathway towards his final destination, a place he now hated with a passion. Once there he dumped Drew on the floor before setting to work. Getting out his knife, Dean made quick work of disrobing Drew, not caring if the blade dug a little too deeply, leaving him naked and shivering on the cold tiles whilst he rummaged once again through his bag. Within five minutes Dean was finished, picking Drew up once more along with a couple of bundles of rope, Dean moved into the other room.

It was freezing in here now and Dean guessed it was that drop in temperature that had started to rouse the younger boy, for the first time he started to struggle and mumble beneath his gag. As the rope was tied to his right ankle those struggles increased, as it was taken around the structure and tied to his left ankle and pulled so that he was spread, Drew started to panic. Dean though was like a robot, driven and focused on only one thing, revenge. He cut the cable tie from Drew's wrists, using the other bundle he quickly tied one arm, before walking around the structure once more and tying the other tight. Only when he was finished did he move in front of Drew and remove the blindfold, the younger boy's eyes popping out when he saw who he was with.

"Don't worry I'm not going to kill you, although you deserve to die, and you'll probably wish I had done so later. See you around." With that Dean walked away. Once outside he pulled out his phone, dialing a number he had gotten earlier he waited for it to be answered.

"Hello?"

"Kris? This is Dean Winchester, Sam's brother. Where are you?"

"At the diner, why is something wrong with Sam?"

"Sam's fine, I just wondered if you could get all the kids that are there to go to the schools pool?"

"Probably, why?"

"You'll see when you get there. Do you think you could get all the kids from the lake to go to? I've left the side door unlocked. Oh and bring a camera."

Dean hung up after the last word, getting into the Ford he waited. It didn't take long for the first group of cars to arrive, or for the first groups of kids to start showing up from other parts of town. Dean watched as they cautiously made there way into the building, satisfied he started the engine and drove off; he knew after all what they would find. Drew spread eagled and naked tied to the high board, his chest painted with the word bully, along with a certain body part. Painted with a paint, he knew from experiencing one of Sam's pranks, would take months to remove. Dean's phone rang within minutes, picking it up he answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I just wanted you to hear this." Kris replied before removing the phone from her ear and allowing Dean to hear the roars of laughter echoing around the pool, listening for a few minutes he reveled in the joy it brought him, whilst he knew Drew deserved more punishment for what he had done, this would suffice. Dean had only just cut the call when it rang again, this time the call coming from John.

"Dad, is Sammy okay?"

"Where are you?"

"On my way back to the hospital, is Sam okay?"

"Don't go back there, Sam's okay. He's with me; meet us on the edge of town. We're leaving; Caleb's already cleared the house out."

"Okay, I'm on my way. I should be there in a few."

**A.N. . . . . Well that's it for now; I know some of you wanted blood, but this just seemed to work better I thought. I hope to get the final chapter up soon. Thanks as always for reading, Peanut x**


	5. Chapter 5

Diving In A Pool Of Pain

**Diving In A Pool Of Pain.**

**Summary. . . . . Months of bullying come to a head for Sam. Hurt and alone will he be able to get help, or will he succumb in a pool of pain?**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . Still belong to Kripkie, only the unrecognizable characters are mine.**

**A.N. . . . . Well this fic completely spiraled out of control on me, I'm so sorry for the delay in posting; I do hope though that you all enjoy the final chapter. And for those waiting for chapters on my other fics they're on their way. Thanks as always to Kris and Jean for the push I needed to get this finished, I'm sorry that your present wasn't completed in time though, Kris.**

The smell of gun oil permeated the air in the small room as Dean diligently worked cleaning their weapons in preparation of the hunt they were about to go on, his hands working instinctively as his mind was taken else where. It had been three months since their dreadful journey to Jim's house. A journey that had started well, Sam's sedative and drugs keeping him under and oblivious to his pain. As the journey continued and the drugs had started to wear off, Sam's body had viciously reminded him of the beating it had recently sustained. Even after they had stopped for gas and Sam had been swapped to the back seat of the Impala, his head resting in Dean's lap as Caleb drove, the youngest Winchester's suffering never ceased. Every pothole, every turn, every stop would reverberate throughout Sam's weary body making him cry out in agony, the cries turning to screams as the journey progressed; screams that Dean still heard every night in his dreams. By the time they had reached Jim's, Sam had fallen into pain induced unconsciousness, his frail body and mind exhausted he hadn't woken again that day, or the day after.

Things had gotten better from that day though Sam, as they had all expected being out of the hospital, gaining more and more strength as each day passed, his bruises fading, his breaks healing, leaving only the knee to still give him trouble; his knee and the debilitating headaches that just wouldn't seem to go away, each one coming on so severely they would send Sam crashing to the floor, heaving and in tears, leaving the others powerless to help him, with no other option but to let Sam sleep them off; his fifteenth birthday passing in such a fashion, the cake going to waste as the day turned into a somber affair.

The most worrying things for both Dean and John though was Sam's inability to remember what had happened that fateful day, and his reluctance to talk about what he had lost. The forgotten memories they knew he would eventually get back, both men dreading that day, but the not talking about what he had lost from his body was something they didn't understand. Sam was after all the talker of the family, he was always the one who needed answers, explanations, reassurances, but no matter what they did, no matter how hard they tried, Sam refused to talk about this.

Dean was brought out of his musings by the sound of laughter coming through the open window from the yard outside; it was a sound he had missed, a sound that they had barely heard these past few months. He dropped the gun he was cleaning and walked over to the window, eager to see what had made his brother smile, not surprised in the least to see it was Jim's two dogs, Max and Paddy, which was the cause; both pups trying to jump for the rope that Sam was dangling, teasingly just out of their reach. Dean sat on the ledge content for the moment to just watch as Sam limped around the yard toying with the two dogs, a smile that had been sadly missed gracing his face once again.

"What are you looking at?" John asked when he came to check on Dean's progress a few minutes later.

"Sam." Dean answered without turning around wanting to enjoy the moment a while longer. "He looks happy for once, do you think this hunt is a good idea at this time?"

"Sam will be fine here with Jim, Dean. We need to start getting things back to how they used to be, get back to normal. If Sam sees us getting on with things, maybe he'll do the same."

"Yeah, maybe you're right. I just don't like leaving him alone."

"Jim will be here Dean, Sam won't be left alone."

Dean didn't answer just continued to watch Sam out of the window. He looked on as Sam's limited strength ran out and he dropped down to the grass to rest, Max and Paddy collapsing either side of him, the rope forgotten as they all tried to catch their breaths. Dean smiled to himself before turning to his Dad. "I'm gonna give Sam his meds, I'll let him know about the hunt at the same time."

Sam sat up as the screen door creaked open, Max choosing to run up to Dean, as Paddy rested his head back in Sam's lap. He watched as Dean walked over, the happiness he had been feeling ebbing away at the look of apprehension on his older brother's face.

"I brought your meds Sam." Dean spoke up as he finally reached his brother, crouching down he handed Sam the three pills and the bottle of water, watching as Sam downed them, catching his brother's eye but breaking the contact first.

Sam started to think of all the bad scenarios as Dean stared off into space. The brother's sat in an uncomfortable silence, each trying to find the courage to speak up first, in the end it was Sam who could no longer stand the silence and spoke. "What's wrong?" He asked quietly.

Dean looked back up at Sam, hearing the fear in his brother's voice, fear he could now once again see in his brother's eyes. "Hey Sammy, it's nothing to worry about. It's just. . . . ." Dean swallowed and ran a hand across his nape before adding. "It's just that we're heading out for a hunt nearby later this afternoon."

"Oh, okay. I'll just go and get packed then."

"What?" Dean asked as Sam went to get up.

"I said I'll just go and get packed then."

"What? No Sam, you don't understand. Dad and I will be going to help Caleb; you're going to stay here with Jim. You're not ready yet to get back into hunting." Dean had expected Sam to be pissed when he found that he was going to be staying, so the reaction he received shocked him to the core. He watched as Sam seemed to deflate and shrink before him, watched as tears formed in his younger brother's eyes. "Sam, it's only for this hunt. You're still recovering. It'll be quicker this way. . . . ." As soon as the words had left his mouth, Dean instantly regretted them knowing that he had said the wrong thing and hurt Sam all the more, he watched as Sam seemed to shrink even further inside of himself, mumbling words Dean could barely hear. He asked Sam to repeat himself, his own heart breaking as he finally caught the words.

"It's because I'm only half a man now isn't it?"

"Sammy, God no, I promise it's not."

"Then why Dean, why do I have to stay behind?"

"Sam, you're not fully fit yet, you know that, and we'll only be gone for the night. If you came and you're knee gave out, you could get hurt. Or what if one of your headaches came on? Give yourself some time to heal, to get your full strength back, Sam. It has nothing to do with what you no longer have, and I don't for one second see you as half a man, Sam. You're twice the man most guys will ever be." At seeing Sam still doubt his words, Dean spoke again forcing words out that he had previously been struggling to say, knowing though that Sam now needed to hear them and that if he couldn't bring himself to say them, how could he expect Sam to start talking about it. "Testes don't make the man Sam; it's what you carry in here." Dean said as he place a hand on Sam's head. "And what you hold and have in here." This time the hand was placed over Sam's heart. "What you have lost is nothing to do with what makes you a man, it doesn't testify to that at all. I promise you Sam, the only reason you're not coming is because you're not fit yet. I'm not even taking the Impala because I don't want anyone else in your seat, nobody will sit there until you are ready to come back. I hope that you believe me?"

Sam looked at his brother, trying to find any hint of deception in his eyes, at finding only sincerity he nodded.

"Good." Dean eventually said as he pulled Sam in for a not too often given hug. "Now is there anything you want to do, or need before I have to leave?" Sam shook his head in his brother's warm confines, content to just sit there relishing in his brother's love.

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Five hours later saw Sam lounging on the couch in Jim's living room, mindlessly flicking through the channels on the TV in the hopes of finding something decent to watch. Dean, their Dad and Caleb had left earlier on their hunt, leaving Sam and Jim just after dinner. Sam's eyes had just started to droop, the repetitive channel hopping making him tired even though it was only eight o clock, when the ringing of the phone in the hallway made him jump. He watched as Jim left the dishes he was cleaning and answered it, the older mans voice sounding grave and distressed as he answered the person on the other end of the line. He spoke for about five minutes before hanging up and entering the living room, a concerned look spoiling his features.

"Sam I need to go to town, one of my parishioners is seriously ill. I hate to leave you alone but I don't know how long I'll be."

"Its okay, Pastor Jim. I'm tired and was going to go to bed soon anyway. I have my cell phone and there are enough wards around, I'll be safe until you get back."

"I don't know Sam. . . . ."

"Please go and make sure they're okay. I'll be fine I promise."

Jim seemed torn between his options, torn between priest and hunter. He couldn't let his parishioner down in their time of need, but at the same time Sam needed him also. He had a bad feeling that no matter what decision he made, it would turn out bad for the other person. "Sam, do not leave this house. Do you understand me? I'll put down some extra protections and wards. If anyone comes here, do not answer the door. Keep your cell phone handy, I'll try and keep you updated as to when I'll be back. Be safe Sam, I don't relish returning to a rampaging Dean because you hurt yourself again."

"Pastor Jim, I'll be fine. Now go, I'd hate for this person to pass away alone. I'm just gonna watch TV for a while longer and then go to bed. And before you ask, yes I have a knife and holy water under my pillow." Jim turned on his heels and left the room still not liking his decision, but Sam was right he couldn't allow his parishioner to die alone.

Sam started channel hopping again as soon as he heard Jim's car driving away, determined to find something to watch whilst he finished his drink. As the numbers got higher though and still nothing had grabbed his attention, Sam thought about shutting off the TV and getting a book instead, a sports channel finally did though what all the other channels couldn't and Sam soon found his eyes fixated on the screen. He watched in fascination as the man strode confidently forward before positioning himself on the edge. Sam's eyes grew wide as the guy jumped off; he didn't see the intricate twists, he didn't see the perfect turns, he just saw the guy jump and hit the water. It was like a bomb went off in his head clearing away all the cobwebs and cotton wool that had been clouding his mind since the day he had awakened in the hospital, everything about his beating came rushing back, overwhelming him, crushing him.

The bullying, Kris, their talk, feeling happy for once, the coaches words, hitting Drew, getting pushed into the water, the laps, the feeling that something was amiss, the missing clothes, the shame as his towel was grabbed, the gay taunts, stepping away from Drew's fist, stepping back into Josh's waiting arms, the pain and feel of the beating, waking up, finding blood down there, his phone gone, wishing and praying for Dean, the struggle to get up and out, the defeat at finding his escape locked, going back the other way, hearing his phone, seeing his clothes, the excruciating painful steps up the ladder, reaching the top, his fear of heights, falling to his knees, the terror of falling off the edge, the agony as his body hit the water hard, the coldness, his struggles to breath and get out.

Sam's face glistened with tears as the latent memories finally resurfaced and flooded his mind, and phantom pains pierced his body. A person had done this to him, someone his own age, not something supernatural, not something evil, a teenager. Sam had always been the one who could see the good in everyone but that trust had now been shattered, he felt his anger growing, the need for retribution getting stronger, he no longer cared why this had happened, he just wanted revenge. Wiping at his face, Sam knew what he had to do. Picking up the Impala keys, even though he was only fifteen he knew how to drive and had a fake license, Sam walked out of the front door.

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Drew Peter's slept the sleep of a man with no worries. After Dean's attack and his subsequent shame, he had suffered some sleepless nights and some hellish days; the photo's circulating quickly around the town, causing both him and his family untold embarrassment. It hadn't taken him long though to get back to his previous ways, a few threats here and there and people soon forgot what had happened, even if deep down Drew didn't. Within a month people had forgotten all about what had happened at the pool, their attention now focused on someone else. Someone Drew himself had set up.

He had waited impatiently for Sam Winchester to come back to school but when the rumors began to circulate that he and his family had skipped town, Drew had turned his hate towards the other person he felt responsible, Kris. A few choice words to the schools resident gossip along with some cut and pasted provocative photos and Kris' reputation had been shot; her family making the decision in the end to leave the town for good. So it was that Drew was back as the top dog at school and currently sound asleep at home. So deeply was he asleep, he didn't hear the door to his room slowly open, didn't hear the footsteps across his flooring, didn't feel the bed dip beside him as Sam crept onto it, but he did feel Sam's hand as it clamped harshly down over his mouth.

Instantly awake Drew's eyes shot open and attempted to see who was holding him captive in the gloom, those eyes widening in fear as he finally caught sight of Sam. If it had of been the Sam Winchester he had previously spent months terrorizing, Drew didn't think he'd have been as worried as he was, the thing was this wasn't that same Sam. This Sam was calm, controlled and uneasily void of any emotion what so ever. No terror, no fear, no hurt, no anger, just blank. And that blankness terrified Drew immensely. He watched as Sam brought something from behind his back, cowering even further into the mattress, his heart thumping loudly in his chest, as the moonlight shining through the curtain less window glistened menacingly off the curved blade in Sam's hand. He was going to die here and there was no one here to save him, his parents away for the night, leaving him all alone.

Drew started to panic, started to fight as that thought entered his head. Sam's weakened state going against him as Drew managed to buck him off of him and onto the floor. Both boys's bounced quickly back to their feet, stanced and ready for the first punch or kick to be given; Drew's mouth, always his own worst enemy, couldn't keep shut though as his bravery returned. He sent a torrent after torrent of abuse and taunts Sam's way in an attempt to break him, but still all he got in return was that silent blank mask. It began to unravel Drew's courage yet again and with it his mouth got more and more out of control, spewing out verbal bashings yet again, this time mentioning Dean, their Dad and Kris. It was the mentioning of Kris' name that set Sam off, unleashing like a tightly coiled spring, Sam pounced.

The battle was bloody, cruel and vicious, both boys landing heavy kicks, punches, bites and elbows on each other. This time though the odds were even, it was one on one and Sam refused this time to hold back, every trick and cheat Dean had ever taught him he used to his advantage until Drew was nothing more than an unconscious, beaten, broken mess on the floor, Sam adding insult to injury by stamping aggressively on Drew's shoulder hearing a resounding pop as it dislocated from his torso, it didn't even cover what he had lost but maybe it would cost Drew his future scholarship. Not caring if Drew lived or died Sam left the house as stealthily as he had arrived. Jumping into the Impala, Sam left the town he hoped never to see again. Once he had made it to the state line though Sam's consciousness and caring nature got the better of him and became too much. Stopping at the first payphone he found he dialed the number for the police in the town they had been staying in and reported seeing a break in occurring at Drew's house. Even after everything the guy had done, after everything he had taken, Sam couldn't see a person die.

It was mid day before a battered and bone weary Sam was pulling the Impala into Jim's driveway, at seeing the lack of vehicles his hope soared that he could make it into the house, shower and change before anyone saw him, he knew he would have to explain away the new bruises to his face, but he could blame them on a tumble over the dogs. As he placed the Impala into park in its space though, Sam's hopes were dashed as he spotted an irate Dean perched on the steps leading to the front door. Turning off the engine, Sam slowly and tentatively stepped out and leant his exhausted body against the frame work, his head dropping to his chest and his bangs falling into his eyes, unable to look Dean's way.

Dean got up from the steps and made his way over to his younger brother, the anger he had been feeling abating as he took in Sam's appearance, blood was clearly visible on his face along with fresh bruises, and Dean couldn't help but notice the way Sam had struggled to get out of the car, or the way his arm was held protectively against his ribs. As Dean got closer still he also began to notice Sam's shoulders shake as sobs began to wrack his body, and the tears that now ran down his checks, clearing paths through the blood that was already drying there. His anger and fear disappearing Dean pulled Sam in close and allowed his younger brother to sob his heart out on his shoulder.

As the tears began to dry, Dean placed a hand either side of Sam's bruised and bloodied face and forced his younger brother to look at him. Questions formed in Dean's mind and radiated unasked from his eyes, but he waited wanting Sam to open up to him first.

"I remember." Sam eventually whispered out. "I remember everything." The tears came again then, this time from both brothers'.

"Are you okay?" Dean managed to choke out.

Sam looked up willingly this time, a smile forming as he answered. "No, but I will be."

Dean placed a strong arm around his brother supporting his weight as they made their way inside. "C'mon lets get you cleaned up and call the others back. You had us worried Sam, Dad, Caleb and Jim are all out there looking for you. Where have you been?"

Sam was quiet for a second before he answered. "I went to find resolution, and to take care of a demon."

**A.N. . . . . . . . Well that's it! A month to the day that it was supposed to be finished it finally is. I hope you all enjoyed the ride with me, and I thank you all for the wonderful reviews and adds to favorite lists. Will catch you all soon, Peanut x**


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